You Know Nothing About Me But You Wouldn't Want To
by Riveted
Summary: The next thing she remembers is herself tightly clutching a shot glass and hearing harsh words like "disapointment", "regret", "human" flit through her ears.  Lauren centric/ Implied Bo/Lauren


When she's a child and plops down with a book in her lap her parents glance at each other as her deep brown eyes become enraptured by some fairy tale story. It's so unbecoming of their logical and practical daughter who will surely grow up to be a doctor or a scientist that they snap a picture just before her big brown eyes peer over the brightly colored story book in confusion. Her mother tenderly walks forward and runs a hand through the girl's hair and her father chuckles softly as he tucks the bright shiny camera into its case adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he does so. And Lauren smiles.

Twenty years later she'll always remember that moment, the soft sweet scent of her mother's flowery perfume and the musky cologne of her father and the sun shining warmly on her head through the bay window. She tries to block out the screech of wheels and the burn of rubber followed by crippling pain. When she had felt a hand on her shoulder leading her away from the graves it's not warm.

It's odd that a child whose parents died at such a young age would be so cheerful and outgoing. But Lauren is always smiling. When she's happy, when she's sad, even when she's angry. But even though there is a smile on her lips a person can always tell by the gleam in her eye or the hands clenched at her sides. No one usually looks close enough though.

When Bo leaves her in the bed that still has lingering warmth and _her _scent it's the first time she doesn't smile when she's sad. It's also the first time she's cried since her parents died.

"You're intelligent, aren't you?" She stiffens at the throaty and deep voice. It reminds her of smooth marble or mahogany. It's cultured and silky but too old. Swallowing she straightens from her bent over position over the microscope. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. The man before her is tall with ebony skin that almost shines in the fluorescent lights. Her eyes rake over the expensive suit and blood red tie hanging from his neck in surprise. Not many people are allowed in the lab, especially not people like this man.

"May I help you?" she asks softly in confusion, hurriedly snapping off the light on the microscope and frowning as his stoic expression lightens with amusement. Light glints unnaturally from his gleaming white teeth and she unintentionally shudders at the sight.

"Yes. You will be able to assist me." He strides forward in that graceful way of his until he's in front of her and she can feel the warmth of his breath. She flinches when she feels her hair rubbed between his fingers and a rough chuckle fills the silent room.

"Have you ever heard of the word fae?"

The necklace is smooth and cool in her fingers. She plays with it a lot when she is making her rounds around the hospital as she smiles at all of the other nurses and doctors, ignoring the cold and subdued glances she receives. But she still has a spring in her step. She's apart of this magical world now. A place where her seemingly childish fascination with magical beings is not looked down on with disdain or exasperation. It's a perfect marriage of her two fascinations: magic lore and science. Instead she is given respect and quiet praise by others including the Ash. He is the one who placed the necklace around her neck and claimed her as one of his own. It's only been two years since he picked her up when she had just finished med school and she was ignorant on the ways of the Fae. Now she's better. She tightens the grip on the unique coin in her fingertips as she spins on her heel, ready to tend to her next patient.

She presses the heels of her hands desperately against the body's sternum and gasps at the effort it exerts on her. She keeps pumping even when she hears the flat line burn its distinct drone into her eardrums. After a few more minutes she puts her hands on her head, staring blankly at the body beneath her in disbelief. This is the first time one of her patients has died on her.

The next thing she remembers is herself tightly clutching a shot glass and hearing harsh words like "disapointment", "regret", "human" disdainfully flit through her ears. Her normally composed and elegant facade is thrown out the window as she slumps forward on the bar, ignoring the sympathetic glances thrown her way. When she is aware of the sensation of cool metal brushing her throat she has to resist the temptation of hurling the object across the room.

She's known she was gay for a while now. And since her parents weren't exactly bible thumping christians she doesn't hate herself or have any sense of self-loathing. She's had hook-ups before and gone on dates. Well in college anyway. When she started working for the Ash everything became work related. One night stands became a rarity. But when she finally saved enough people to ask permission to be let outside-_like a dog pawing at the doggy door_- she relishes watching everyone. She never fully realizes how much she misses humans until she's allowed to be apart of their world Well that's not exactly true. She's more like an audience member watching the incredibly complex and intriguing play of earth and human life unfold. She can never be truly apart of it again.

Maybe that cold feeling of melancholia is what causes her to get drunk off her ass and join a lesbian threesome. Lauren ignores the throbbing head ache behind her eyes the morning after and tries to mask her limping with her usual bright smile.

"You hate this, don't you?" she teases softly as she adjusts the stethoscope from her ears and peers into the sullen blue eyes. The soft harrumph of annoyance makes a grin curl her lips and she playfully her lab coat pocket.

"Dyson, you really shouldn't be so careless though. You should be-"

"Alright Doctor," he teases rolling his eyes as he hops off the gurney and re-buttons his shirt. "Are you finished?"

She smirks and scribbles something down on a piece of paper attached to a clip board, nodding absentmindedly.

"Yes. You can go Dyson. Try not to over exert yourself like that again."

They aren't close or anything but after that first appointment the werewolf occasionally stops by and they share easy conversation about his travels and life. Sometimes she'll offer a tid bit of information, a birthplace here, a childhood memory there. She's not used to talking to someone who seems to care about what she thinks and her parts are usually brief and impersonal. It's unfortunate then that after Bo comes his little chats with Lauren cease and their conversations are reduced to scathing glares and curt words.

She likes to think she's very articulate about her knowledge because she's intelligent and well versed. But she really knows that she talks to keep a barrier between herself and the other person. When she bogs them down with academic information filled with verbose words her patients become distant, taking on a bored and impatient expression. They don't become attached that way. They don't start conversations that way. And they certainly don't try to become friends that way. Lauren likes to try to be the kind and excellent doctor that a person knows little to nothing about. Besides a doctor should be wholly devoted to her patient. Why should she have to share things about herself?

_". . . and I'm boring you, aren't I?"_

When she sees Bo's eyes gleam with bemused mischief she feels the desperate need to be impersonal vanish like a wisp of smoke.

She used to love dogs as a child. Especially puppies. And she's frequently been compared to the animal as well. So many people including the Ash, have expressed that she has "puppy dog eyes." Well maybe not in those exact words but that general idea is accurate. She even related to dogs and their fierce sense of loyalty, persistence, and easy-going attitude.

Bo smiles at her, staring at her for a bit too long as she scribbles something down hurriedly on her clipboard. She feels heat warm her cheeks and covers her uncertainty with an easy smile.

"What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?" she inquires playfully, resting the clipboard on an empty table. Bo tilts her head to the side and her grin widens.

"I was just thinking that you look like a big puppy dog sometimes."

Lauren doesn't quite know what to say and Bo also lapses into silence but for some strange reason it isn't awkward. Frankly the quiet got even more comfortable and easy.

_"Don't forget your dog collar." _

Now whenever she sees a dog she frowns and shies away.

Lauren sits in her comfortable desk chair, head lolling over the back, and eyes strained on the crisp white ceiling. Her hands are stuffed into her lab coat as usual and her eyes absentmindedly trace over the almost unnoticeable cracks. Ever since that night with Bo she barely sleeps. She had to start popping sleeping pills and they give her head aches. Either way she can't quite win. All because of her. A slow smile that really isn't a smile spreads across her face and she laughs. But for all of the wrong reasons.

**A/N I just got into this series and I absolutely love Lauren. She's so fascinating and intriguing regardless of how little she was used in the first season. I hope I did her character justice. **


End file.
